The Consulting Detective's Daughter
by fruitysoda
Summary: When a gas explosion destroys Willow's apartment building while she's at school, her life turns upside down. She tracks down her previously unknown father to 221B Baker Street and begins her new life there. But when a series of kidnappings and murders turn up all over London, Sherlock, John and Willow are on the case. (I really suck at summaries. Sorry!)
1. Chapter 1

A tall girl, perhaps around the age of 15, walked briskly down Baker Street. She was on her way to something important. _Okay, I can't mess this up. _She thought as she stopped in front of the door. 221B, the brass writing on the door stated. She double checked the worn piece of paper she had stored in her pocket. Drawing in a deep, quick breath, she knocked. Footsteps came down the stairs and opened the door. "Hello, you must be John Watson?" She asked the man standing in the doorway. "Yes, that's me." He answered, looking puzzled at the girl. _Who is she? Why is she here? _John thought as he asked her a question. "What do you need?" She smoothed out her cardigan and smiled. "May I speak to Sherlock Holmes?" She looked at him, being eye-level with the man, with a half-smile. "Please?" "Sherlock! There's a girl here for you!" He called up to his flatmate, who was currently sprawled out on the sofa, bored. "Tell Ms. Hudson to quit setting me up!" The girl smirked and crossed her arms around her chest. John breathed in sharply, and before he could call up to his under-stimulated flatmate, there was a shout of "Bored!" and three shots fired, certainly at that spray painted smiley face. "Sherlock! She's too young to be one of Ms. Hudson's women!" John was getting exasperated, fast. It wasn't enough that Sherlock had been bored the past two weeks, his violin's been out of tune and this girl shows up here demanding to see Sherlock and smirking. "Okay! I'm coming!" Sherlock jumped off the couch and came down the stairs. John nodded at him as he went back up to their flat. Sherlock looked quickly at the girl's curly, black hair and blue-gray eyes. "I'm sure you've already thought of this, Sherlock, but I'm your daughter, Willow."


	2. Chapter 2

Sherlock stood in the doorway staring at the cardigan-clad Willow. "Can I come in? I don't exactly know the procedures for this kind of thing." She smoothed out her sweater again and looked up. "Sure, come in." He said warily, stepping aside to let the girl in. She looked around carefully, seeming to take everything in at once. "Nice place. Detective?" Willow said, looking at her father. He smiled and answered the girl's question. "Consulting detective. How did you figure that out?" "Easy. The papers on the table. No person without connections could have those kinds of papers." She half-smiled at the flatmates. _Oh God, now there's two of them. And one is a hormonal teenage girl. _John thought while Sherlock and Willow were discussing… explosives. "How's your mother?" John asked, curious who let their daughter turn up unattended at a practical stranger's house. "Dead. She died in a 'gas explosion' at our complex. I fortunately, was at school."She said, looking straight at Watson. "I'm sorry." "It's alright. Things could be worse. I could be dead." _She really is Sherlock's daughter. _John thought quietly to himself. "So where are you staying?" He recovered quickly, dragging the conversation with him. "With my sister. She really didn't want me, though. She told me to track my dad down, to keep me out of her hair. 'Put that smart-ass stuff to work' is what she said." Willow threw her head back and laughed. "Everybody thinks I'm a freak until they need help finding their stupid cat. Ugh, I hate missing pets." Sherlock sauntered off into the kitchen, leaving Willow and John to continue the conversation without Sherlock talking about explosives and poisons, both of which she knew far too much about.

Willow flopped down on the couch, and looked up at John. "Now that you're down interrogating me, I'm bored." She looked towards the kitchen. "What's he doing in there?" She asked, seeing a whitish smoke coming out of the contraption on the kitchen table. "A few lab experiments. Nothing much." The exasperated blogger replied to the teenager. She leaped off the couch and into the kitchen. "What're you doing?" Willow asked, looking curiously at the thingy Sherlock was working on. "You wouldn't understand." He was still engrossed in his experiment, barely looking up to see the girl standing across from the table. "Really?" She was looking up at him, arms crossed across her chest. Sherlock looked up from what he was doing and looked into her eyes. She squinted at him and he squinted back. They seemed locked in this until Willow shouted "Bored!" and left the kitchen to flop back on the couch.


	3. Chapter 3

"Bored!" Willow called again, reaching for the gun left on the table. "Now don't you dare." John scolded, causing the teen to drop the gun back where it was. "I really think you should go now." He looked at the curly haired girl who took so much after her father. "Let her stay, John. She's not awful." Sherlock called from the kitchen, still working on whatever it was. "Fine. When is your sister expecting you back?" John looked at the unentertained Willow. "Never. I accidentally blew up her kitchen when she distracted me by asking me to find her cat Truffles again. I've told her a billion times 'Don't talk to me when I'm working with unstable explosives!' So it's her fault, but she still kicked me out. She told me she can't stand me anymore with my incessant viola playing, my boredom, and feeding cyanide to her daughter's hamster. I was there only a month! How can someone get tired of the viola in a _month?_" She rolled her eyes and exhaled loudly. "And when I left she told me to find someplace else to stay. So here I am." Sherlock waltzed into the living room, expecting to flop down on the couch and saw Willow sprawled there, bored. "What are you doing in my spot?" He asked, looking down at the girl. "I'm bored!" She answered, looking up at the man with his hands on his hips. "Sherlock, her sister just kicked her out." John said, informing the consulting detective on Willow's state. "I don't care! I want my spot back." Willow smirked at him, almost mocking him. _Who does that girl think she is? Just waltzing in and taking my spot!_ Sherlock thought, looking at his daughter very seriously. "Can you get up?" He asked, getting more annoyed by the minute. "Sure I can." She replied, smiling. "Thank you." He stood there, feeling very pleased with himself, waiting for her to get up. A few more seconds passed and Willow had still not moved an inch. "Well?" Sherlock looked crossly at the girl. "Sure I _can_ move. The question is, will I?" She smirked at him and got up so he could take her place. "You must not have many friends." Sherlock grumbled at Willow. "No, not really. They say I'm really antisocial and I could make friends if I tried. I say that everybody at my school is daft and all the girls' care about are makeup and boys, and all the boys' care about is who won the last football match." She cheerily replied to his rhetorical question. "Well, I better be off now. See you around!" She started towards the door. "Wait! You said your sister kicked you out. How about you stay with us?" Sherlock raised his eyebrows and looked at Willow. "Sure, I'd like that."


End file.
